


distracted.

by sonsoflucis



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Smut, Touchy-Feely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 21:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14923157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonsoflucis/pseuds/sonsoflucis
Summary: headcanons for the boys [noctis, gladio, ignis, prompto] going down on their fem s/o





	distracted.

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sitting in my ask box for a thousand years and i strayed a bit from the original request, but i hope you like it anyway. ;n; i had a lot of fun writing this.

_**gladio:** _

Sprawled out on the couch next to Gladio, you turn the volume up on the movie you’re watching as he plays with your hair, tracing small circles on your neck. A blanket covers your legs, just a hint of your panties showing from under it, the only clothes he’d allowed you to put back on after that morning’s romp. Gladio follows the movie with rapt attention, some romcom he’d been waiting to buy for ages, so he could show it to you. But occasionally, his hand lingers on your waist, at the curve of your hip. Small signs you know all too well. Because as much as Gladio loves movies, his primal need to touch you always takes priority. You both have a healthy sex life with each other, but he would never press the issue if you said no.

But let’s be honest, when have you ever said no?

You know the instant you express even an infinitesimal speck of interest, the shield will be on you in a second, his appetite voracious. But that’s what makes it fun. A bit dangerous even. His thigh rests against your own, his raw, unhindered allure vibrating the very air around you. Your fingers tiptoe across his stomach, tugging gently at his belt. He looks away from the movie, sharp eyes studying your face.  He watches you unbuckle his belt, your hand dipping into the waistband of his pants. A low groan reverberates in his chest as your hand closes around its prize, stroking softly. Gladio’s eyes close as he ruts up into your palm, the only sound coming from the television. After a while, an impish grin spreads across his face as he removes your hand from his pants. “Ladies first.”

With a small squeal, you giggle as he slides onto the floor, kneeling in front of the couch as he hooks his fingers into the band of your panties, sliding them down your hips and off your legs, tossing them over his shoulder before he pushes your legs up to your chest. His warm eyes take in the sight of your already needy sex, wetness glistening amongst the folds. With a soft, hungry moan, his mouth latches onto your clit, devouring you with a holy reverence as his gaze flits up to meet yours. He reaches up to squeeze a breast, making his way to your parted lips with a demanding air. You grin devilishly, sucking on his thick finger lewdly. Gladio kisses your inner thigh, nipping at the tender flesh of your cunt as he slips that finger into you, curling it towards him with a growl. “Ready for round two?” he whispers, watching the expression on your face change from one of naughty playfulness to explicit carnal delight.

“More like round five,” you breathe, biting your lip.

“Round six,” he chuckles, dipping his head back down. “Then seven, then eight…”

 

* * *

 

_**noctis:** _

“Dammit! How do you always do that?!” Noctis gripes, his character falling to their knees in front of yours, your name flashing across the screen as the winner. You shrug, kicking your feet lazily as you lay down on your stomach next to him, beginning a new match.

“I dunno, Noct. Maybe you should look up a walkthrough or cheat codes or something, so you have a chance at beating me,” you grin, cheek resting on the soft carpet as you glance back. The prince scowls, grumbling as he sets his controller down.

“Do a player versus computer match. I wanna see how you manage to decimate me every fuckin’ time.”

“Just admit I’m a better gamer than you.”

“Never,” he glowers, shrugging off his hoodie. “Go on. Impress me, cheater.”

You sigh, shaking your head as you start the match, your character brandishing a broadsword, the computer summoning a three-headed dog made of bones. “Piece of cake,” you mutter, focusing as you land a few combos, chipping away at its health. But your breath hitches when you feel a hand caressing your backside, groping each cheek through the ratty fabric of your sweatpants. “Noct, quit it,” you whisper, rolling your eyes as your character gets smacked across the arena with a loud crunch. “Fuck!”

You turn to curse at him for distracting you but are caught off guard when you see how he is looking at you, his ocean eyes lust-thick and half-lidded as he tugs your pants down until they rest just under your ass. His other hand is inside his pajama pants as he touches himself slowly. “Keep playing,” he whispers, sliding his hand between your thighs, ghosting your clit.

You bite back a whine, arching up towards the touch as you go back to the game, starting a new match. Noctis’ dark hair falls in his face as he leans over, spreading your lips with his fingers. “Don’t lose this one,” he teases, a hint of warning in his tone as he inspects your sex, two of his fingers sinking into your plush heat. Your face is hot as you continue playing, the controller fumbling in your hands. He crawls behind you, lifting your hips up with his arm until you are on your knees, bared to him in all your sinful glory. Noctis grips your ass with both hands firmly, spreading your cheeks with a glint in his eye.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot,” he murmurs, your thighs quivering as he noses at your heat. You whine as your character is impaled on the enemy’s sword, the controller finally slipping from your grasp. As it thuds to the floor, Noctis clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “I said don’t lose,” he grins, his breath warm on your aching clit, his own arousal straining against the red plaid of his pajamas. “Do you not understand the rules? Maybe I should give you a walkthrough…”

 

* * *

 

_**ignis** **:** _

“I made a few snacks for you to try. They’re in the kitchen,” Ignis calls out from his spot in the living room, over the sounds of police sirens and screeching tires. His favorite crime drama has been marathoning on TV all weekend and Ignis has died and gone to heaven. This is better than any vacation he could dream up. Just him, his program, and you flitting about the apartment, keeping him company.

“I don’t see any,” you return, smirking coyly as you adjust your bra in the small mirror on the wall. You’d bought this lingerie set just for him, to cap off his weekend the best way you know how. He’d admired it in the shop whenever you all went in to purchase new toys and things, but never had the courage to ask to see you in it. _Get ready, stud._

“On the counter. Beside the toaster oven. I’ll come get it,” he sighs, moving to stand as a commercial comes on.

“Oh, you’re going to come all right,” you giggle, leaning against the doorway with your head cocked to the side. Ignis’ brow furrows as he looks up, his chest tightening when he sees what you’re wearing.

“I, erm, I thought you needed help in the kitchen,” he murmurs, swallowing thickly as you slink towards him, your eyes shining with mischief. “The, uh, the snacks.”

“Ignis, love,” you purr, placing a gentle hand on his chest and pushing him back into his armchair. “I am the snack.”

You climb into his lap, kissing his cheek, his jaw, his nose as you grind against him, undoing his pants button. Ignis captures your lips in a searing kiss, tangling his fingers in the straps of your bra, almost snapping them with the severity in which he pushes them off your shoulders. The television show lost to him in the background, the strategist takes his glasses off, patting your thigh. “Up. Stand up. In the chair,” he breathes, urging you to hurry.

You scramble to stand, whimpering as he nudges you to rest your hands on the back of the chair, your sex inches from his face as you lean over him. He sits up straighter, running the pad of his finger over your clothed heat, enamored by the slickness soaking through. “Does kitten want to play?” he whispers, tracing the outline of your throbbing cunt.

“Yes,” you reply softly, squirming as his fingers dance along the sensitive flesh, air hitting your exposed pussy when he pushes the fabric aside.

“You smell divine,” he murmurs, lapping at your clit with a moan. You tip your head back, his thighs spreading in the chair to keep your legs apart, feet caught between them and the arms. “And you taste better than anything I could prepare.”

“Just call this the first course,” you tease, Ignis’ hands on your hips as he draws you closer.

“I think I may have to take off an extra day of work…”

 

* * *

 

**_prompto **:**_ **

 

“This documentary is super sick,” the blonde tells you, giddily loading the DVD into the slot. “Wait until you see this amazing, sweeping panorama they use in the intro. It’s incredible.”

You sink into the plush cushions of the futon, patting the seat beside you. “I can’t wait,” you smile as Prompto plops down. The DVD loading screen doesn’t go away though and his shoulders droop.

“Aw, come on, man. Don’t do this to me.”

“What’s wrong?”

“The DVD player has been acting up. I tried to fix it, but I think I gotta get a new one,” he grumbles. You catch yourself staring at him, admiring the way his loose tank top hangs off his torso as he rests his elbows on his knees. Prompto was always teased for being scrawny, but you know better. And the proof is right in front of you. His muscled abdomen flexes as he messes with the remote settings, his biceps tensing as he presses buttons. With the open cut down the sides, you can even see the hint of a tattoo he has yet to tell you about, winding up his hip. Noct has a matching one. _A story for another time_ , you muse as your eyes wander.

He growls in frustration, huffing as he sets the remote down. “Well shit.”

“No dice?”

“Nadda.”

“…I mean, I have something else to occupy our time, if you’d like.” He looks over curiously, cocking an eyebrow. You spread your legs, wiggling your eyebrows as you smooth your fingers over your stomach, down between your thighs. “If you can get these shorts off, I can show you.”

Prompto wastes no time, pinning you down amidst the pillows scattered across the futon, making quick work of your shorts, barely getting one leg out of them, paying no mind as they hang off your ankle. “Slow down, tiger,” you giggle, writhing under him as he unzips your jacket. “I have one more request.”

“What?” he whines impatiently, eyes locked on the way your chest rises and falls as you try to catch your breath.

“I want you to take pictures. However you need to. Manually. Self-timer. I don’t mind. I just want photos.”

His eyes light up, a smirk spreading across his face. “You’re serious?”

Nodding, you bite the tip of your finger, watching his hungry gaze move down to the apex of your thighs. “On one condition. You eat me out. And make sure it looks filthy.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers earnestly, leaning in to kiss you. “But, uh, why? You never let me before.”

“Because I want you to show them to the others,” you grin wickedly.

“…you have never been more attractive,” he breathes. “I’m gonna go get my camera. When I come back, I want you completely naked with this sweet ass up in the air and your panties in your mouth. Got it?”

“Aye, aye, captain,” you whisper, drawing him into a deep kiss before the blonde scurries away to grab his camera bag. “Bring some handcuffs too!”

“Oh, _fuck_ , I love you.”

 


End file.
